


déjà vu

by MinRosie



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dimension Travel, Gen, Good Friend Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Good Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, I miss him okay :(, Memory Loss, Mythology References, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Platonic Soulmates, Protectiveness, Technical kidnapping, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), attempt at mystery, no beta I ascend to another dimension and hope for the best, phil is a good dad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29484297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinRosie/pseuds/MinRosie
Summary: Maybe it was arrogant of him but he always felt like he was destined for something more. There was something out there that was calling to him. He had no idea what it was, but it was always there in the back of his head telling him to run, to search.aka: Feral Child with memory loss finds out he's a god. More at 10.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 116
Kudos: 556





	1. Birth

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [the pantheon, broken](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28625817) by [stareintospace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stareintospace/pseuds/stareintospace). 
  * Inspired by [dig me a boneyard in a field of daffodils](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29301978) by [07JoeTheBastardo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/07JoeTheBastardo/pseuds/07JoeTheBastardo). 



> *chucks into the void*  
> Listen--  
> I'm soft for this AU I had to try my hand at it.
> 
> Chapter 1 edited as of 02/18/2021 (minor flow fixes and pacing)

This is the kind of story that you hear years after it happened: the day the godchild was born was a day of peace and rejoicement throughout the realm. It is a simple phrase but one that serves its purpose, even if it’s overshadowed by what comes next. The story of the godling has long been stained with grief and mauled by the sands of time, poets can’t do it justice, artists falter, bards stumble, and authors can only gape. But we are not there yet.

That story doesn’t talk about how worlds seemed to still as people paused, it doesn’t tell you how the skies lit up and danced, it doesn’t tell you of the wind blowing past homes carrying laughter, nor does it tell you how the gods all united under one roof and rejoiced. The day the godchild was born was the day War put down his sword, it was the day that Madness softened his hold, and the day Death refused to take a soul. It was the day that the Aether’s winter thawed, bringing life back into its worn gears.

It’s in the house of Death, Madness, and War that we see the first stirrings of our story. The Central Aether had long awoken. Death was set on weaving his tapestry, as Madness pondered his design and War set off once more. 

None knew the turn the day would soon take, as the sun rose and worlds turned. It was Death who first caught wind of the change. “Wilbur.” He asked, turning to Madness. “Have the Priests sent anything over?”

Madness paused in his ramblings, “Not that I’m aware of.”

“Should we announce a visit?” Death pondered, putting the tapestry to the side. Madness grimaced.

“Must we Phil?” Madness asked. “The life pools have been quiet for lifetimes.”

“I think we have to Wilbur, I have a feeling…” Madness nodded.

“I’ll go find Techno then.”

The first worlds were full of water and scarcely anything breathed, out of these waters came the first gods: The Creator, the Destroyer, and the Lifebearer. The Creator generated the worlds and the creatures within them. The Destroyer tore the gods apart. The Lifebearer made it possible for other gods to be born, to pick up what was left behind. Little else is known, or maybe that’s all there is to know.

It’s at the Central Life Pool that Death made himself known, “Hail, Lord Philza. I hope your halls have prospered and your weaving of life's paths smooth.”

Philza nodded in acknowledgment as the man rose, “I’ve come to talk about the Life Pool.”

“What questions do you have, Sire? All those here are your humble servants.”

Phil pressed on. “Have there been any signs that the Pool will become active?”

“None, Sire.” Philza frowned and the priest doubled back. “If you wish, we can undergo a summoning, sire. I wouldn’t want to present you with outdated information.”

He nodded and the man scampered off.

War grunted as he marched through the halls, Madness not far behind. “What’d Phil say, Wilbur?”

“He had a feeling that something was going to happen today,” The other responded. “You know Phil’s rarely wrong Tech.”

War grunted in agreement as they marched into the church. “Phil.”

“My sons.” Death greeted his wings flaring in tune to the ripples in the pool. The man was tense and his eyes piercing as he looked down onto the priests, his wings were the only thing echoing through the cavern. A new Godling hasn't come out of the life pools in a long time, some even thought they wouldn't see one ever again. The priests broke away and Madness leaned in eager for news

“I’m afraid that nothing has changed Lord Philza,” His head stayed bowed. “We at the--”

Suddenly there was a burst of light and the Priest whipped around in alarm. War and Death made eye contact before they ran into the chamber. “What’s happening here?” War demanded, his sword out. No one spoke as they gaped at the light. 

“Phil?” Death was making his way into the pool, his wings folding against his back, War and Madness stood by. The light pulsed before it disappeared completely. No one dare breathed, the impossible had happened. A new Godling was born.

Phil turned around, eyes filled with joy. “It’s a boy!”

Wilbur had jumped into the pool and was swimming his way over the instant he caught sight of the little bundle in this father’s arms. Technoblade was not far behind, having dropped his sword in his haste to leave his cloak behind. “Holy shit, holy shit, _holy shit_ .” Wilbur was rambling, eyes watering. “ _Dad_.”

“Can I see him?” Techno pushed his way past, dunking Wilbur into the water. His eyes were wide and his face cracked into a toothy grin.

Phil laughed before he called out. “Send out the news, The Aether has a new Prince to welcome.”

The following weeks were full of sunshine and warmth. The fields prospered and the streams ran wild, the days were long and the night sky full of stars, and the Aether was humming in excitement as the gods gathered once more.

At the center of it all stood Philza, the little bundle held lovingly in his arms. Neither Wilbur nor Technoblade had left his side, both boys trembling in excitement. Other than birth, one of the most important parts of a Godling’s life was their naming ceremony. The child was not just named; they were given authority over a domain that they would devote their lives to preserving.

The room was electric as Phil cleared his throat, “His name is Tommy, God of Paths and he is my son. I hope that the paths will lead him to glory and that his path is one of prosperity.”

The room cooed as the child chirped in approval, leaning his way out of the blankets. Tommy was a chubby baby with a thick head of curly blond hair and bright blue eyes, he was very content chewing on his fingers.

“As cute as this is,” A man interrupted. “ _Some_ of us still have gifts that need giving.”

“Oh shut up Schlatt, let them have their moment.” Schlatt rolled his eyes as he walked past.

“I’m outpacing you fuckers, right here, right now.” Bad gasped in offense. Schlatt revealed a bundle, and Wilbur could only blanch.

“Schlatt please tell me you did not kidnap a fucking child.”

“Do I look like the type of guy that does that?” No one answered, and Schlatt pushed on. “Have you heard of kindred spirits?”

Techno raised a brow looking skeptical. “Aren’t those supposed to be rare? Soulmates are practically impossible.”

Schlatt didn’t say a word as Tommy did the work for him. The boy had started to wiggle out of his blankets reaching out to Schlatt. Phil chortled accepting the bundle, Tommy cooed in amazement at the other boy, his hands resting against two tiny horns. “What’s his name?”

Schlatt smiled. “Tubbo.”

That year's summer was said to be the longest yet, life thrived and the people sang out as they reaped bountiful harvests. The boy grew quickly under the guidance of his family, Tommy thrived under Wilbur’s patient tones, Technoblade’s persistent urging, and Phil’s gentle assurance. The world was open and it had never looked better.

Now we reach the end of our tale, but like many other sentences or stories, there is a second part. A but if you will, an although. The day the godchild was born was a day of peace and rejoicement throughout the realm, but after his fall, nothing was the same.


	2. Snowglobe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Child is here :D  
> Tommyinnit in America, what will he do?
> 
> Watch out Rick I'm coming for your brand.

Tommy was a big man, the biggest man there ever was. Sure he was a sixteen-year-old, but he was six foot three and full of determination. The ladies fucking loved him. He was a steel wall of awesomeness and he needed nobody.

“Hi! I’m picking up an order for Brandy?” The girl said, her smile disgustingly cheery for five in the fucking morning. Tommy was ready to curl up on the floor and let the ground reclaim him, thank you very much.

“The Cinnamon Dolce Creme?” He asked, already pushing the drink forwards.

“That’s the one!” He glued on his best smile.

“Have a good day, and remember:  _ Always keep your eyes on the stars _ !”

Clara snickered at his blatant disgust, he was pretty sure the reason she came up with the damn slogan was to torture the shit out of him. He could feel his cool factor slipping each time he said it. He was grateful for the lady, but that didn’t mean he had to be nice to her. She’d probably lock him up or call the priest from down the street if he dared act sweet.

“Good work kid.” She snickered. “You’re bringing in the customers--”

She dodged the plastic lid and laughed at his terrible aim. Tommy was about to start cussing her out when the bell rang. The two of them spun around. “Hello! Welcome to Space Rocks, what are you ordering today?”

Tommy had known Clara his whole life, or what he remembered of it at least. Clara took him in when he was younger and they’ve been working together ever since. Despite them being close in age, Clara was like a mother to him, she didn’t question where he came from, gave him a job in her shop, and enrolled him in school.

“Hey, Star Child! Get out of your head. Clem’s coming in soon and we need to get my head in the game.” Tommy stared blankly at her, he went to prepare another order. “Ouch.”

She was hopeless and he didn’t shy away from making fun of her. Tommy was doing very well considering he was an amnesiac orphan who was apparently in the wrong country to begin with.

_ Tommy’s head was spinning as he leaned against the wall, where the fuck was he? What the hell was happening? What the fuck? _

_ “Hello? Are you okay down there?” A voice called. Tommy looked up into the sky to see a lady leaning off the rails of a building. _

_ “What?” He yelled back, the lady laughed, climbing her way down the steep ladder. _

_ “Hello, little Englishman! What’re you doing in the Big Apple?” Tommy was so fucking lost. _

_ “The big what?” _

Tommy found out very quickly that he fucking hated Americans. Honestly, as a British person, everything they did was offensive, to him and the fucking Queen. Screw the fact that he’s been living in America for the past ten years,  _ Clara _ , he was an Englishman through and through.

“Hey, kid.” Clara started, once the morning rush started to cool down. “What’re you planning on doing after all of this? College? Getting a better job?”

Tommy hesitated. “I was thinking about trying to find my family…”

Clara frowned worriedly. “You know how difficult that’s gonna be, kid.”

“I know Clara.” He sighed leaning back. One of the unfortunate consequences of being an amnesiac orphan was that you had no idea who you were, and wouldn’t be able to find your family. Unfortunately for Tommy, he was an amnesiac orphan with no official records, so the government couldn’t even find them. “I just want to… know you know? Like why don’t I remember them? And why haven’t they found me? Did they not try or something?”

Clara draped her arm over him, he could tell she was trying hard not to be upset. “Listen, kid if I was your mom I’d stop at nothing to get you back. I guarantee that your family is the same way.”

“They better be because I’m fucking awesome!” Tommy grinned punching Clara in the arm. She snorted before putting the pastries into the oven. 

Honestly, Tommy wouldn’t mind spending his life here with Clara. It was nice here despite what complaints he had about Americans, and it was his home. College never really seemed to fit him, it was way too expensive and he was too cool to be doing office work or other boring shit like that.

Maybe it was arrogant of him to say but he always felt like he was destined for something  _ more _ . Like there was something out there that was calling to him. He had no idea what it was, but it was always there in the back of his head telling him to  _ run _ , to search. It got louder in the night when Tommy couldn’t sleep, and he’d find himself looking up into the sky and thinking it was dull and empty. His head would go fuzzy and he would feel  _ different _ , old and achingly long for something he couldn’t feel. Even thinking about it caused a gnawing in his stomach that made his arms go up in gooseflesh and made him feel empty.

He never had the heart to talk to Clara about this, not wanting to worry her more than he already had. But he’d spent more than enough time in the school library to know that he had some kind of wanderlust. Though he didn’t know how he would afford to indulge it, he didn’t have the funds to travel around the world scavenging for clues like some top-tier detective. Heh. Maybe he was a prince or some shit, that would be hysterical.

“How many more orders do you need me to make Clara?” He asked, balancing a travel tray in one hand like a fucking pro.

“Hey Tommy, put your Britishness to good use and brew some Earl Grey.” Clara tossed the tea bags in his general direction. “I’m an American, we only drink coffee here.”

“Uncultured swine, how dare you.” He quipped back, setting the water to boil. She snickered, packaging the last of the deliveries. “Honestly though, who orders tea from a coffee shop? That makes no fucking sense.”

“A pussy.” Clara whispered back; her eyes held sagely knowledge. Tommy nodded in agreement, keeping his eyes on the tea. If he fucked this up his British card was getting revoked, he was not risking it. The Queen herself would be knocking down his door in the middle of the night.

Clara hummed as she wiped down the counters making Tommy groan. “Clara please, you’re fucking tone-deaf. Please stop the torture, we don’t deserve this.”

“Who the hell is  _ we _ ?” 

Tommy gestured to his perfectly made cuppa. “We bitch.”

Tommy groaned as he stretched out his aching muscles. It had been a long fucking day, he couldn’t wait to lay down in his bed and not wake up for an entire day. That would feel so damn good, he impatiently tapped the counter. Clara had gone out not too long ago to deliver an order to the boutique across the street and was probably busy chatting up Clementine or something. 

It was just him and his perfectly brewed cup of tea, which he had to remake because it got cold. It still tasted good though. Honestly, when the asshole who ordered the tea comes in they better be grateful for all the effort Tommy put into it. He had his pride to think of and the integrity of the cafe, Tommy had brewed the Mona Lisa of Earl Grey's, he was the fucking Da Vinci of tea brewing. If this bastard thinks they can trip up Tommy fucking--

There was a crash and Tommy tripped over himself in surprise.

The window caved in and alarms started ringing. In front of him was a guy wearing the ugliest hoodie Tommy’s ever seen, seriously who the fuck wears neon green? In  _ public _ .

“Do you have an Earl Grey? For Clay?” Oh, so this was the asshole who let his tea get cold. He came in through the fucking window, who does that?

“I’m five seconds away from screaming for the police,” Tommy said. “If you don’t plan on paying for--”

_ “Tommy?” _ The asshole gaped. “What in the world are you doing all the way out  _ here _ ?”

Tommy’s heart was spasming in his chest. “Do I know you?”

Suddenly there was a roar and Tommy was picked up. The Green Asshole was throwing him over his shoulder and legging it out of Space Rocks. Tommy couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Why the fuck is there a giant bull destroying my workplace?”


	3. Figments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy and Dream become adventuring buddies! 
> 
> The pacing is off in this one,, I might change a few things later.

“That is no bull, that’s a Minotaur!” Green Bastard yelled, parkouring his way up the side of a building. God, that would be so fucking epic if this situation wasn’t so fucking weird.

“Mino-what?” Tommy blanched, he was dreaming, right? He’d probably fell asleep reading something for English, or he had passed out behind the counter and was going to be woken up by Clara whacking him across the head with a magazine. Any second now…

The Green Bastard was running across the roof. They were getting really close to the edge, but he was going to wake up soon so it was all going to be okay. Suddenly, they were jumping and Tommy was sure he tore his fucking vocal cords because of how loud he was screaming. The wind whipping past his face felt way too real. He was dropped on the roof and was left shaking like a damn Chihuahua. What the fuck, what the freaking fuck was going on.

“Okay… We should be safe for a little while. We’ve gotta talk.”

“Fuck yeah we do.” Tommy hissed. “What the fuck? What the fucking fuck was that? You broke the window, then the whole building. You didn’t even take the fucking tea.”

“That’s not important right now.” The Green Asshole said. Tommy twitched.

“I fucking made that tea.” Yes, Tommy was whining, and could you fucking blame him? His fucking Mona Lisa was gone now, this was the worst day ever. The bastard snorted and Tommy glared. “Who the fuck even are you?”

The asshole paused. “Surely I haven't changed that much kid. I mean it’s been a while but--”

“Clara says I have amnesia,” He said, shifting awkwardly. “I don’t remember much of anything.”

The other froze, his eyebrows furrowed. “That’s a joke. Right?”

“Afraid not.” He gave an awkward grin. The Green Man sighed leaning up against an AC unit.

“This just got complicated, holy shit.”

“Okay… First off, my name is Dream.” Tommy frowned.

“I thought your name was Clay.” Tommy leaned back giving the bastard a one-over. “You don’t look like a Dream, that name’s too cool for someone like you.”

Dream rolled his eyes, “Whatever you say Tomathy.”

“My name’s Tommy, you bastard.” Dream sighed dramatically, looking up at the sky like it would give him answers.

“Right. My name is Dream and I’m the God of Luck.” Tommy stared at Dream, Dream stared back.

“Oh, I see… I understand now.” Tommy smiled stiffly.

“You do?” The bastard asked, eyes hopeful.

Tommy nodded. “You’re a wrongin’. You’re on drugs, aren’t you? We’re on drugs."

Everything made so much sense now. Tommy wasn’t seeing giant bulls and didn’t just get kidnapped by a madman in a neon green hoodie. This was all a hallucination or some bullshit and he was holed up in an alleyway somewhere with a random hobo. God, Clara was going to kill him dead and have Father Manuel bring him back to kill him again.

“No, oh fuck no, Techno would end me if that was true. I mean I can take him, but that asshole is determined when he’s mad.”

“Who?” He found himself asking despite all his street smarts telling him he should bolt out of here before he really was kidnapped. “What kind of name is Technoblade? Is that new kush or something?”

“No, no he’s your brother.” Dream paused staring hopelessly at Tommy’s face. Tommy felt like he’d taken a water balloon to the face. He had a brother? A brother with a weird-ass name, but a brother nonetheless. Suddenly, there was a roar ripping across the rooftops and Dream pulled Tommy away from the ledge.

“We need to go.”

“Where?” His head was spinning from all the questions he had. The Green Asshole pulled out a bouncy ball and threw it. Tommy gaped, there was a freaking hole in the ground and on the other side was a forest clearing. “What the fuck?”

Dream wasted no time pushing him in as the Minotaur charged.

Tommy was screaming as he shot down the magic tunnel. There was no wind, but that didn’t make the journey any less nauseating. Tommy’s limbs shook as he took in his surroundings. It looked like a perfectly normal forest all right, there was sunlight peeking past the leaves and it was misty. Meaning that Tommy was soaking wet, he let out a disgusted groan as he picked himself up.

Not too long after Dream appeared, sheathing a sword Tommy never noticed he had. They stared at each other. Dream was the one who broke the silence. “You don’t remember anything?”

There was a ring of mushrooms surrounding the clearing, the fucking things were practically stools they were so big. “What the fuck was that?” He asked. Dream gestured to the magic bouncy balls, looking a little stressed.

“Ah, right. These are transportable portals, TPs. We use them to get around the dimensions and into pocket dimensions, each of us has one of our own.”

Tommy hesitated, “Us?”

“The Gods,” Dream clarified. “You’re one, your whole family too.”

“I’m a god?” Tommy asked, his brain was going haywire. “I mean it’s not surprising I’m definitely cool enough, I’m cooler than you at least.”

Tommy did not mean to say that, what the fuck. His brain was flustered and he was saying so much crap, oh fuck. Dream was laughing at him, the asshole. “Good to see you haven’t changed.”

Tommy was full-on having a mental breakdown. First off, he was a god. Second, they just traveled through dimensions, apparently, you can casually do that now. He had a family, who were also gods? “If you’re all gods how come you didn’t find me until now?”

“Despite what you may think, we gods aren’t all-knowing. We try our best to be but it’s not possible.” Dream ran his hand through his hair. “How did you even get this far out? That was ages away from the Central Aether. I never would've gotten out this far if it wasn’t for the rouge Minotaur.”

Tommy had many questions, way too many to count at the moment, half of them were probably valid the other half was filled with cussing. Dream looked like he was deep in thought, his street smarts were telling him that it probably wasn’t a good idea to backtalk a dude who was supposedly a god. Even if Tommy technically was one too. Good thing Tommy wasn’t good at listening anyways. “Please tell me what’s going on here, because I’m five seconds away from causing problems.”

“I’m trying to figure out what to do, the best plan would be to go to the Central Aether and find Philza,” Dream glanced at him before clarifying. “Your father.”

“Why can’t we do that?”

“He’s stopped taking visitors ever since you’ve disappeared. It’s better if we find one of your brothers first… Either Wilbur or Techno.”

“He’s what?” Tommy felt choked up and stupidly vulnerable. He had a dad and he had two brothers, that was so fucking cool. Dream smiled at him sadly.

“They love you, they love you a lot you know. You were their world, and a little bit of them died when you disappeared.” Tommy didn’t know what he was feeling and he didn’t want to dwell on it.

“What should we do first?” He asked instead.

Dream paused. “Our best bet at the moment is Wilbur, Techno is hard to find when he wants to be alone.”

He was going to find his family and he was going to get his damn memory back, no matter what. “Lead the way, Big Man.”

His heart was racing in anticipation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Wilbur


	4. Yellow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur!! Also, up updates might be less often from now on :( sorry about that.
> 
> Warnings!!!  
> Alcoholism, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Hallucinations.  
> If there any others you think are important for me to put in don't hesitate to tell me :)  
> Stay safe :D

The moment when Wilbur first saw Tommy was something he could recall in vivid detail. He could tell you what direction his brother’s curls were facing, what vines were located in the Life Pool, the names of the Priests present. Wilbur could tell you that the moment he had waded over to his father and looked inside that little bundle everything froze and gravity displaced itself to the little boy's whims.

Blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, and a gummy smile.

Tommy was what the mortals would call a cherub, a little baby angel. Each little giggle caused sunlight to dance, made his hair shine gold and his eyes to glow. Wilbur had loved things before, he had loved music and loved art, he loved his brothers and his father, he loved and he loved and he  _ loved _ . 

It was easy for Wilbur to love Tommy. His youngest brother. The little boy who cooed at the sight of butterflies and turned his nose up at vegetables, who could make worlds turn and stop all the same. The one who could make armies fall with a single sob and stop wars if he put his mind to it. Tommy who would grab at Technoblade’s cloak and demand to be carried, who would hide under Wilbur’s bed, and the one who would nap while Phil wove his tapestry. Toms who could take his breath away with a single smile.

**_He was plunged under the pool and into the dark. Wilbur was drowning, and he may never come back._ **

When he awoke it was to a pounding headache and a dark room. His breath tasted stale and his back was stiff. His eyes burned with tears,  _ it had felt so real _ . Like Tommy was right there and was going to be pounding on his door demanding that he play with him. 

_ “Out! Out, right now! Or I’m gonna start problems!” _

Wilbur let out a sob as he curled into himself, he couldn’t do this. He reached out to his bedside and poured a glass of wine, it didn’t matter that over half of the bottle spilled onto his lap and that the sheets were getting stained. Wilbur didn’t want to feel like this anymore, he  _ couldn’t _ feel like this anymore.

“Wil.” Schlatt’s tone was disapproving, but Wilbur could care less. 

_ “Wilby, come onn! I wanna go play!” _

His hands were shaking so bad he had to give up on the glass and drown the bottle instead. “Wilbur!”

The bottle was knocked out of his hands and Wilbur could only watch and listen to his sanity crumble. Schlatt sighed pressing his face into his hands. Stupid. He should’ve known better than to stay here overnight, he should’ve crashed in a nearby village instead of staggering over here. At least then no one would be trying to stop him.

“You can’t keep doing this Wilbur. You’re killing yourself.” There was a retort ready on his tongue but Wilbur couldn’t bring himself to say it. Fucking Schlatt and his sudden decision to learn good morals.

So he switched the subject instead. “How’s Tubbo.”

“He’s fine, Quackity’s looking after him.” Schlatt sat down. “Makin’ sure the kid doesn’t disappear somewhere to find Eret. We still don’t know where he’s gone off to.”

_ Like Tommy, like Tommy, like Tommy,  _ his brain called out. There was an unholy static filling up his limbs, trying to push him under, grabbing at him with intangible hands. Wilbur’s mouth snapped shut, and he shrunk away. 

_ He wanted it gone, gone, gone. _

He couldn’t deal with this so early in the morning, he was shaking.

_ “Can you read to me?” The voice asked, before it huffed. “I know you already did, but I wanna hear it again.” _

Was it cruel to want Tubbo to go after Tommy instead, to hope that the young Faun would find his brother? Even the Creator knew that Wilbur had tried, they all did, never sleeping until they’d searched every building and corner they could reach. Tommy and Tubbo were supposed to be kindred souls, they should’ve been drawn to each other. Tubbo should’ve been a beacon that guided Tommy home, one that brought Tommy back to him. To them.

Tommy should’ve come back confused and maybe a little scared, but then Wilbur would’ve flung his arms around his little brother and pulled him close. They both would’ve cried until Technoblade stumbled into the room, frantic, with Phil not too far behind. They would’ve scolded him for running off too far and he would be sorry, but he would’ve been  _ safe _ and he would’ve been  _ home _ .

Maybe it was selfish to put all his hopes on him, because Tubbo was young, he was only a child. If neither Technoblade nor their father could find Tommy how could Tubbo? He should be glad that only one of them was gone. He should be glad.

**_Then why was there a hole in his heart, why didn’t the sun shine anymore, why was it always so cold. This wasn’t what the world should be, this macabre mistake that just kept going on and on and on--_ **

_ “I wanna hug, I missed you.” _

“I’ve got to go…” He rasped, flinging the sheets off. He was suddenly burning, his skin was crawling. He had to leave, he had to  _ flee _ . He couldn’t stay here not when all he could think about was what went wrong. How he couldn’t do anything. Where he couldn’t see Tubbo, only Tommy,  _ always _ Tommy. Tommy who was always there in the back of his mind, waiting, waiting,  _ waiting _ ...

Wilbur shuttered crushing his head between his hands. He duly noted that Schlatt was trying to talk to him, was holding him even, but he could care less. This needed to stop, this stupid nightmare, this damn endless trance. 

He could hear it clearer than ever. His baby brother’s shrieking laughter, the one that took over his entire body and made him so animated and  _ alive _ . He could see it, Tommy draped across the arm of a sofa heaving with laughter at some prank that succeeded.

Schlatt slapped him across the face, breaking the illusion. Wilbur’s ears were full of cotton. 

“I was almost there.” He sobbed. “I was almost  _ there _ .”

Schlatt didn’t say a word, and maybe he didn’t have any left.

It didn’t take long for Wilbur to leave. It would be nice to say that through his breakdown he had a profound realization, one that he needed to move on and that Tommy wouldn’t want to see him suffer like this. The truth was that Schlatt had sent out an order that banned him from all Pubs, and the owners would rather die than anger their lord.

_ ‘If Tommy didn’t want him to suffer,’ _ He thought bitterly.  _ ‘He’d have to come back and tell him.’ _

The shakes had stopped, his metabolism finally purging his system. 

Wilbur paused, he didn’t want to go home. He  _ couldn’t _ go home. If seeing Tubbo was bad, going home would be worse. Tommy was always seen with Tubbo, the two of them always gravitating around each other. But Tommy  _ lived _ in the Central Aether’s halls. He was in each scratch on the walls, in each smudge on the floor. His footsteps could be heard through the halls following faint laughter, and his rhythmic humming haunted the nights.

Wilbur remembered waking up one night to Technoblade screaming down the hall. He had run, heart in his throat. He had found Technoblade collapsed on the floor, his arms wrapped tightly around Tommy’s pillow.

“I heard him Wil.” He had wailed. “I _ heard _ him.”

None of them had left that night, Phil had perched on the window frantic. His eyes searching, for something, for everything, for  _ anything _ . Techno had stayed silent the rest of the night, then the rest of the week, the rest of the month, until he just left. He couldn’t stay anymore, not without Tommy.

Phil was the only one who could. He had abandoned the Solarium, choosing to do his weaving in Tommy’s room. Their father was never truly there anymore, only existing to float between the loom and windows like a spirit. The life was leached out of their home and eventually the realm itself. Tommy was the sun, he had realized, and he had been taken because of that the world didn’t deserve springs.

While his brother stalked the battlefields and his father haunted their home, Wilbur could only wander. At first, he stayed with Schlatt getting piss drunk, but eventually, Schlatt moved on and adopted Tubbo. He had grown, while Wilbur never could. So Wilbur wandered. He wandered past the Shire, past the Backwoods, through dimensions.

He found himself at The Inbetween. The courtyard was empty and the sun was barely peeking above the horizon. Wilbur didn’t remember what peace felt like anymore, too run down by memories and by his own madness. If he had to try to describe it he would say that peace was back when Tommy was a baby, when Tommy wouldn’t cry or laugh or sleep, when he would rest against Wilbur’s chest while he flipped through tomes and stories. Technoblade would be settled across a sofa, half asleep and mumbling to himself. Phil would be humming softly and preening his wings. Peace was when his family was whole.

Wilbur wailed, his screams echoing throughout the courtyard. His little brother was dead, their family was torn apart and Wilbur was left to wander among the shattered fragments of a story that was never meant to be.


	5. Harbor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream wants to stop being a babysitter, but Tommy goes on a side quest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thanks for all of the love you've shown this :)  
> I'm grateful for every single one of you <3
> 
> (special thanks to 07JoeTheBastardo for being an inspiration and for giving me the motivation to write this chapter <3 <3 <3)

How do you take care of a child? 

Well, Tommy wasn’t a child by mortal standards but he was still very  _ young _ . A godling his age would still be within the family, opting to learn about their domain and being doted on. Dream himself never had any siblings, he had grown up under his mother Puffy and Lady Nikki. 

He was glad he didn’t, children were hard fucking work.

“What do you mean I can’t get a sword?” Tommy whined. “You have one!”

“I was trained to use one Tommy.” He answered, trying to find the right sphere. He needed to bother Karl to make these things distinguishable.

The kid huffed. “One of my brothers is the God of War or some shit right? Don’t tell me he didn’t teach me  _ anything _ ?”

“He did, but it’s not like you can remember it.” Oh, Mercy that was a bit harsh wasn’t it? Oh fuck. The kid didn’t say anything in response, and just moved right on and continued babbling. 

Right… maybe he wasn’t that bad at this whole thing. Tommy was a child but he was old enough that Dream could manage him. At least until they found Wilbur... or Schlatt. Whichever came first.

“Wilbur will most likely be around The Shire, so we’ll start there.” Dream’s mind was buzzing. 

It wouldn’t be good to just drop right in the middle of Logstedshire, they needed stealth. Dream grimaced, Tommy was already kidnapped once and if his carelessness caused it to happen again, nothing would stop Technoblade’s warpath. As much as he was confident in his skill, and his luck, he did not want to be a fugitive. Plus, his mother would be disappointed, and that was a whole other can of worms.

“What’s the Shire?” Tommy asked, stumbling through the foliage.  T hat was another thing to consider, Tommy didn’t know  _ anything _ . The kid was vulnerable. Dream didn’t know how he disappeared, but he was sure that whoever or whatever was behind it would try again.

“The Shire is the Realm ruled over by Schlatt, God of Wealth and Wine.” Tommy was enraptured, and Dream’s heart twinged.“It’s divided between Fauns and Satyrs. Logstedshire and Snowchester.”

Tommy frowned. “In a book I read, it said that Satyrs served Dionysus. Did something happen to that guy?”

“Who?” Dream paused. Don’t tell him that Tommy had been brainwashed by whoever kidnapped him.

The kid had the audacity to look at him like  _ he _ was the one out of his mind. “You know, Dionysus, the Greek God of Wine?”

“I’ve never heard of a Dionysus, only a Schlatt.” 

Tommy stared at him blankly. “Huh. That’s weird.”

Dream had heard that the outer dimensions were faithless, mostly through snippets of gossip he’d swindled out of drunk bounty hunters and adventurers when he decided to go undercover. He’d have to ask more later. “When we reach Logstedshire I need you to keep your hood up. Don’t let  _ anyone _ see your face.”

Tommy’s face twisted in confusion. “What are we looking for?”

“Your brother.” Dream answered, tightening the hood around the kid. Dream didn’t know which Pub Wilbur would be in, but he needed to find the man, and quickly. Undoubtedly the other would want to get Tommy out of the public eye as fast as possible, that'll be the best way to solve this. At least until a better plan was made.

Tommy groaned. “You’ve gotta give me more than that Big Man, what does he look like? What does he like? Does he do pranks? He has to be an Alpha male, he’s related to  _ me _ after all--”

What is Dream supposed to even say to that?  _ Oh yeah, Wilbur likes to play the guitar and sing, but please ignore the fact that when he sees you he’ll probably be piss drunk and sobbing his eyes out. I promise you that he’s really cool though, now go with him and talk to the rest of your family! _

Who knows what the kid would do then.

“You’ll know him when you see him.” He says instead. Tommy’s star-filled eyes were something he didn’t have the heart to destroy, he’d rather Tommy figure it out on his own terms than through him. It was depressing that the kid didn’t remember anyone, and Dream was sure all of them would be devastated when they heard. The kid’s amnesia would wreak havoc throughout the Aether. They could only hope that they could fix it, and if not… Well, they’d have to make new ones, wouldn’t they?

Looking at it now, it would be best if they talked to Schlatt first, the man had eyes everywhere and would know the best way to approach Wilbur and break the news. Plus, he had Tubbo and could most likely take care of a child better than Dream. “Kid, I need you to stick close to me--” 

Tommy wasn’t behind him he suddenly realized, his heart was pounding, and dread filled him. The kid was nowhere in sight. They’d only been here for under an hour and the kid was already fucking kidnapped. Gods, he was  _ doomed _ . 

Dream could practically feel the drums of War beating down on his immortal form.

\---

Listen. 

Tommy knew that leaving Dream behind probably wasn’t the best idea out there, some people would even say it was the worst idea ever. Maybe even the worst idea in the history of worst ideas. But Tommy was an independent man who needed no Dream, and he was gonna get a fucking sword. Sure he had a brother to get to, and a past to uncover, but he wanted to look cool doing it. Like, what if they were attacked and Dream was distracted, Tommy had a right to own a sword and to protect himself!

That was at least what he would be telling Dream to justify running off.

There was no way he would tell Dream that he had a sudden feeling that he  _ needed _ to run off and that there was something he needed to find. The Green Bastard would probably knock him out or some shit. It was a familiar feeling, one that haunted the back of his mind at all times and called him towards the stars.

He was a  _ God, _ his brain supplied, maybe that was why. Tommy still couldn’t wrap his mind around the turn his life had suddenly taken, he went from an amnesic orphan to learning he was apparently a fucking  _ God _ . Nothing made sense anymore, so that should mean that Tommy wasn’t required to justify his actions. He probably had some immunity after all.

His brain hummed as he walked past stalls of jewelry, piles of clothing, and carts filled to the brim with weapons. None of them felt like what he was looking for, but that didn’t stop Tommy from haggling a sword off of a vendor. He had to back up his lies with proof and if he ended up having to give up his phone, it was worth it. It felt like the correct choice.

It was shorter than the one Dream had but it was wider and deadly sharp. It was also easy to hide which was a plus. Something in his head had purred in approval when he saw it and caused a sharp  _ need _ to rip through him.  _ The sheath _ , his mind supplied, was soft and worn. It was familiar and the hilt fit perfectly into his hands.  _ Home _ . 

_ Home? Wherever that was. _

“Now be careful with that. I’ve had a few people lose fingers because of this beauty.” The old Satyr had chuckled before handing it over. 

He felt a hysterical giggle bubble through his chest as he ran off, he had a fucking sword now. God, what was he  _ doing _ , this was a fucking terrible idea. He was running away from the one person who knew this world best to look for something he wasn’t sure was even fucking real. His head was buzzing and his legs were pumping as he rushed past the town square and into the market. 

This was freedom. True fucking freedom, the kind that birds probably felt when they were soaring above all of them, when they could look down on the spoiled and muddled cesspit of humanity and laugh.

He passed stalls upon stalls of fruit and flowers and followed the smell of fresh bread. The sun was high and the sky was clear, the air was clean and crisp. It was nothing like New York. 

New York was nice, Clara was nice but it was never  _ right _ .

The birds were chirping and the sun was beaming down like it was greeting him. Tommy cheerfully waved at a group of children when he passed through them, and called out apologies as he narrowly avoided pushing people over. He ran past a statue spouting water, past a vine-filled fence, and down a crumbling staircase.

But this? This felt so  _ right _ . It was like the world was welcoming him, and if he dared think it, it felt like home

He was nearing the edge of the town he soon realized, slowing to a jog. They were in Logstedshire if he remembered correctly and beyond the town was a field of flowers. He paused taking it all in. The field seemed to stretch on forever, Tommy realized as continued forward, there were clumps of lavender, scattered daisies, and other flowers that he couldn’t name. The sheer amount of pollen almost made him sneeze.

Suddenly he heard a buzz and stumbling, his brain hummed and his eyes darted. He was starting to feel fuzzy, and his heart was thundering. Was he here? Why were they even here? Should they be here?

There was a boy sitting under a tree, and Tommy could only stare. He had a small set of curled horns on his head and had his shirt on wrong. Tommy would’ve probably started laughing or something if there wasn’t something achingly  _ familiar _ about the boy.

There was a crunch as Tommy stepped on a branch. 

The boy looked up, and the world seemed to click back into place like it was an old game or film that needed a knock before it could back turn on properly. “Tommy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit rushed but the real plot will start very soon ;)


	6. Connections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everything's coming together

“What did you say?” Schlatt for the lack of a better word was fucking bewildered. Here was Dream after disappearing for months coming to him and spouting what had to be nonsense. “What do you mean you’ve found Tommy?”

Dream paused. “Well I  _ did _ find him but now he’s gone, and I don’t know where he is.”

If what Dream said was true… and if Tommy was alive… “You want me to tell Wilbur? Or Technoblade?”

“If we tell Technoblade he’ll tear everything apart looking for Tommy, Wilbur should know first even if he’ll end up telling Technoblade.” 

The little brat hadn’t changed a bit, Schlatt mused, he was still causing trouble and making them all to panic. What made this complicated was the amnesia Dream had mentioned. Wilbur would want to find Tommy and swaddle him up before he could move. Undoubtedly both Philza and Technoblade would rally behind him eager to take their youngest back, but he needed answers first.

“Where did you find him?” That would be the most important thing to know. If someone had found a weak point in Karl’s powers and they were able to smuggle Tommy out of the Aether once, what would stop them from doing it again? What was the guarantee that they hadn’t already done it? Did this have something to do with Eret’s own disappearance? If so  _ why _ ? Better yet  _ how. _

“That’s the thing, he was  _ far _ out.” Dream leaned forward suddenly urgent. “It was one of the newer worlds, very new, I wouldn’t have gotten that far if I wasn’t hunting that rogue Minotaur Mother told me about.”

Schlatt blanched, rouge Minotaurs were uncommon, since most were uncaring unless angered. Even then they only stayed angry for a few moments and at most days. Dream was gone for  _ months _ , there was no way a Minotaur would stay rouge for that long. Surly Karl would’ve alerted them, a rouge Minotaur traveling through worlds was sure to disrupt them and was something that needed to be taken care of right away.

“That’s troubling… That’s… I’ll write to Karl, that should not have gotten past him.” What Schlatt didn’t want to think of was that Karl knew about the Minotaur and didn’t tell them, and that Karl might’ve done the same thing when Tommy first went missing. “You go get Punz and Antfrost and try and search for the kid, I’ll take care of this.”

Something was wrong, something was terribly wrong.

\---

When Wilbur woke again he was leaning against a lounge chair. 

The Library of Ages, right, Ranboo probably found him and brought him in before he got sick. Though, he thought glumly, he already was quite sick in the head. 

Not too far away was the Enderman Hybrid scribbling away at his parchments, writing down important histories. Wilbur never understood why Karl ceded power to Ranboo and why he gave the boy Godship over memories. At first he had thought it was for irony since Ranboo himself had a terrible memory, later he was told it was because the boy was determined to remember. He worked hard helping others remember, even if he had trouble doing it himself. 

Wilbur often found himself jealous of Ranboo. The boy could forget the bad things that happened to him and could  _ choose _ what he remembered. What Wilbur wouldn’t give to do that, maybe he could pretend that Tommy wasn’t dead and no one would correct him. Maybe he could even forget that Tommy existed at all. Ranboo would scold him.

_ “It’s better sometimes to remember something terrible than to forget it.” _ He would say.  _ “You heal that way, I promise you do.” _

It was absolute bullshit, of course, remembering only caused him pain. 

All he could do was remember, and didn’t that hurt. 

The only thing he had left of Tommy was his memories, memories that never left him alone. 

Memories that only told him what he lost, and showed him what he’ll never have again.

Ranboo finally noticed that he was awake, and gave him a sad melted kind of smile. One that Wilbur often wanted to rip off his face, he didn’t need  _ pity _ he needed a resolution. “Good morning Wilbur. How are you?”

“Okay.” He wasn’t, but it was obvious enough that he didn’t feel like he was lying. Ranboo didn’t push and just reorganized his papers.

Wilbur would start wandering again soon enough, looking back through old records just for a semblance of routine. There was never anything about Tommy, there was nothing there about him leaving the Aether, or that he was even alive. As much as he didn’t want to think about it, he still did. Tommy was dead, Tommy was gone and searching wouldn’t help. There was no body, there was no hope.

The people of the Central Aether could and would curse his father for bringing eternal winter, they grumble and they wail because they thought he’d forsaken them. That was until they’d parted from the world shepherded by the same god they felt cheated by, and the world turned over again to a new order. Ones without sunny days, ones without springs and ones without Tommy. The worlds would keep turning suspended around the Aether like dust cursed to remain in limbo, until their inevitable rotting demise and until the end of creation itself. 

“Ranboo!” Karl rushed into the library, frantic. “Where are the TP records, I need to see them.”

Ranboo was rushing to the records leaving Wilbur behind to console a stressed Karl. “What’s wrong?” 

Karl didn’t answer and Wilbur sneered, was the man reluctant to tell him, did he not think him capable? “Listen, I may not be the most stable fellow at the moment, but I can help.”

Karl faltered before he rocked Wilbur’s world sideways. “Dream found Tommy.”

“ _ What _ ?” Was he hearing this right... Tommy was alive? “I’m not... dreaming am I?”

He knew he looked desperate, unhinged even, but he could care less. Please, please, please don’t let this be another dream, another illusion created by his madness that would leave a festering hole in his soul that kept growing bigger and bigger until it could swallow him whole. A hole in his soul, in their home, that only  _ he _ could fix.

“He’s alive… but, Dream lost him.”

Something was rumbling through him, something bright, something burning, something  _ scorching _ . It was something that could power supernovae and create universes, something that could raze worlds and raise them, and could drop the heads of false emperors and kings in its wake. Wilbur hadn’t felt such anger in a long, long time. “What do you mean he’s  _ lost _ my brother.”

  
If this didn’t resolve itself properly, how it damn well  **should** . It wouldn’t be Technoblade that Dream had to worry about.


End file.
